All Things Considered
by caesarsdaughter
Summary: Post The Girl in the Fireplace. So, obviously spoilers


Author's Note: Don't own them. The Beeb does in all of its glory. And while RTD isn't my master (no one can replace Joss), he is a brilliant bugger. And, like everything else I write, this is unbeta'd. So I apologize for any typos.

DISCLAIMER: Spoilers through The Girl in the Fireplace.

All things considered, she thought she wasn't doing so bad for a girl in her jim-jams. And Rose didn't feel much like changing out of them. However over the course of the past couple of days, she had showered several times, and changed into fresh pyjamas. Never let it be said that Rose Tyler wasn't hygienic, even when disheveled. In between showers and meals, she'd shown Mickey the rest of the TARDIS – those parts of it she was familiar with, anyway. She'd puttered about, trying to avoid the console room in an attempt to give the Doctor some space, and mostly found herself in the library (one of the libraries?) where she found herself drawn – completely against her will and better judgment - to history books of 18th Century France.

She'd learned quite a lot in a short span of time: all about court life, the role of a courtesan, the Bourbons. She read up on the arts of the period, she'd read about landscaping, architecture, music. She'd read court poetry (soppy trash, mostly). She'd even read up on the equestrian arts of the period. And after she'd exhausted the impersonal topics, she finally succumbed and had read up on the extremely accomplished life of Mme. De Pompadour. She'd then read up on the not-quite-as-accomplished life of Louis XIV. And then, in a fit of pique – and though she knew it took place thirty years too late – she even reread A Tale of Two Cities. Mostly for what happened to the accomplished aristocrats. (She hadn't read it properly when it had been assigned in school, anyway.) She even tossed in a book about the Battle of Actium – just because.

All in all, Rose was quite proud of herself. No jealousy here, just accomplished learning. Broadening her horizons. Making the most of herself. Getting up to A-level snuff, as it were. But as for getting properly dressed – dressed enough to leave the safety of the TARDIS and go on an adventure: no thanks, she'd pass on that.

"Why not?" Mickey never was one to get a hint. Even one as obvious as:_ 'Please leave me alone. Can't you see I'm in pyjamas for the forty-seventh hour running?'_

"Just don't feel like it is all. Think maybe I caught something on that ship. Maybe that fire extinguisher thing aggravated my allergies."

"Rose, you haven't got any allergies." There were definite disadvantages to having an ex-boyfriend as a fellow traveler - fewer plausible ways to beg off.

"Maybe I picked some up in space?"

Mickey scoffed, "Fat chance. Seriously, Rose. Why not?" Mickey's voice was taking on that very special whinging tone he used to get when she'd held out on him for too long. "I've only had one go at this. It's not fair that you're keeping yourself locked up in here. The Doctor won't land anywhere without you."

"Hmm. I doubt that," she muttered (though a little too loudly), "and honestly, I just don't feel like it. Tell the Doctor it's fine to land somewhere – anywhere, anytime. I don't mind. Really." The words sounded forced and hollow, even to her decidedly, absolutely, unequivocally non-jealous self. For days she'd carefully avoided the Doctor, leaving him to grieve in whatever way it was Time Lords grieved. (And she was damned sure they did. His previous incarnation had taught her that right away.)

"Right then. If that's how you want it."

"Mmm." Rose had already ended this conversation her mind. Though he was still standing there, staring at her confusedly, Mickey was no longer relevant to the rest of her afternoon's activity. She began sifting through the piles of books, looking for a new choice.

"Fine." With another annoyed scoff, Mickey disappeared through the library doors.

* * *

"Rose." She could feel him standing over her – not as close as he could have stood (should have stood), but close enough that she could feel his presence and a shift in the airflow around his legs from her position on the floor, surrounded by his books. 

Time had passed. She wasn't sure how much – funny thing, the relativity of time when one is traveling in a time machine – but enough for her to notice that her legs were now cramped and her neck felt more than a little sore.

"Hello, Doctor!" Once again, her voice seemed false, vacant, in her ears. A short time ago – one day? two days? - she was sure he'd have noticed.

"Interesting reading you've got there."

"Yeah, well. A girl's gotta learn, right? And the TARDIS's got all these books. I never really took the time to read 'em before, you know?" God, could her voice be any more fake? She didn't even sound remotely like herself. She should probably grab a book on acting while she was at it.

"And you figured now would be as good time a time as any to catch up?"

"I honestly did."She looked back down at the large leather-bound book in her lap (Horticulture in the Age of Reason) and leafed through a couple of pages.

"You know, I've always found it's easier to learn by doing rather than by reading." How like him. He would say something like that just now, wouldn't he?

She looked back up at him. "Have you."

"Absolutely." He smiled slightly at her. It wasn't a goofy grin, he wasn't manically beaming at her, but it was a small smile. Though, if she was honest, it looked a little sad. Rose suddenly determined she didn't particularly want to be honest with herself, and looked down at a lovely sketch of some artfully sculpted hydrangea bushes.

"And - in your travels - you've found an appropriate planet for the practical application of historically-themed flower growing, have you?"

"Yes, I have." She thought she could hear the slight smirk in his voice. She hadn't spoken to him in days – purely out of consideration, mind you – and the first thing he does is smirk at her.

"Well, I'm just not feeling up to it is all. But honestly – take Mickey wherever and show him a good time."

"Rose, I couldn't. He's YOUR boyfriend!" The Doctor put on a mock-scandalized voice with a fluttery pepper-pot hand gesture to match. A few days ago, she'd have smacked him in the shoulder and carried on laughing with him. But she knew – she just knew – that as much as her heart wasn't in laughing, his wasn't in joking just now.He couldn't possibly be feeling alrightyet, no matter what he said. She was almost angry with him for even trying – why'd he feel a need to make her think he felt something he didn't? Did he think she couldn't handle the idea he might be upset?

"Seriously Doctor, it's not fair to him. He's only just had the one trip really. He deserves to see a bit more… and I'm honestly not feeling up to it."

"Rose, do you think it would be possible for you to further convince me of your sincerity by adding in just one more 'seriously' or 'honestly?' Because they're really doing the trick."

Okay, so maybe he'd noticed that her voice was forced. Maybe he'd noticed that she wasn't behaving quite like herself – willing to jump into whatever insane troublecame their way. Currently, she wasn't willing to jump into anything but the shower. She was being reticent. But even if he'd figured that much out, she was damned if she was going to tell him why. She was certain he knew already, anyway. So what'd be the point in dragging it up?And besides – even if she was mad at him, at least she still had him. The Doctor had lost Madame de Pompadour. Survivor's guilt wasn't just for the ones left behind. Turns out it was also for the ones who loved those left behind. Bloody fantastic.

She flipped a few more pages in the book on her lap and stared at a picture of an ornately trimmed holly bush.

"Looks a bit like a bonsai, doesn't it?" he smiled over her. While she'd been looking down he'd closed the gap between them just slightly.

"Guess so. They're all sort of the same, aren't they? Things of the nobility. Pretty to look at, and polished and grown so carefully, so perfectly. But they're the same in every court everywhere, aren't they Doctor?" That came out a bit stronger than she'd hoped, a bit too passive-aggressive for her own personal taste. Guilt and bitterness apparently didn't make for light horticultural conversation.

"Rose."

"Doctor?"

"That was a very, very thinly veiled metaphor." He sounded so weary as he said it. Like he had known it was coming, had hoped it actually wouldn't, and had been sorely disappointed. But he offered her his hand to help her up.

"I'm still learning." She accepted the hand, but quickly lowered herself onto the arm of a chair once she'd stood up. She didn't want him getting any ideas about her leaving her sanctuary to join them out there in … wherever.

"Rose."

"Yes, Doctor?" She really wasn't giving in about this. He wasn't alright, and she wasn't alright. And she wasn't about to upset the delicate balance anymore than his knowing she wasn't alright and her knowing he wasn't alright already had. Mickey could sod off.

"What's this about then?" Lord, he sounded so tired. He sounded tired and she sounded forced. It was obvious that neither of them was quite up for this. She came to the highly rational conclusion that it'd be better – and far easier – for all involved if she just put an end to this whole conversation until a bit more time had passed.

Her mouth, apparently disagreed with her rational conclusion: "You promised me."

"What did I promise?"

"You promised that I could spend the rest of my life with you."

"Ah."

"You promised that I could spend the rest of my life with you. And then you took the horse and crashed through the mirror."

"Yes, I did."

"You promised that I could spend the rest of my life with you. And then you crashed through the mirror after telling me that no way to get back to me."

"That, I suppose, is true in the strictest sense."

"You promised that I could spend the rest of my life with you. You crashed through the mirror with no way to get back. And you didn't even say goodbye."

"Also true."

"Doctor, you lied."

"Ah."

"Also, you apparently forgot that you promised."

He stepped carefully around the pile of books and plunked wearily down on the other arm of the chair – his back facing hers. "That does make me sound rather like a terrible cad, doesn't it?"

"A bit, yeah."

He was silent, then. Uncharacteristically silent. Eerily silent.

"Rose." He stated her name in that peculiarly questioning way of his: he was asking permission to continue the conversation, asking whether he should plow ahead with his – potentially uncomfortable – train of thought.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Do you think it's possible to care for someone – to really, truly feel almost impossibly close – and to still forget that person's existence? Or, at least, have that importance significantly diminish for a period of time? However brief?" His voice was quiet, his words rapid. His profile had a look Rose hadn't ever seen before (New New Doctor): one that combined fear and shrewdness. It seemed to Rose that he anticipated her answer, knew what she'd say to him before she did, but really, truly didn't want to hear it. It was an expression that would've looked ridiculous on someone else – particularly in profile. Even the old him couldn't have pulled it off, all peering eyes and ruffled hair and slight grimace (course, the old him didn't have goggly eyes or ruffly hair). But this Doctor had a way of making even the strangest expressions sensible. Damn alien. He looked down at his plimsoles, "Do you?"

"I dunno, Doctor. I always thought that if you loved someone, and you promised 'em-"

He sighed, "And you promised them that he or she could spend his or her life with you, you wouldn't go crashing through a time portal, stranding yourself on the other side, thereby effectively breaking your promise. Yes, we've covered that." This incarnation also rolled his eyes very well. Rude, he was. Her mum was right.

As she was about to give him a smart-ass retort, he quickly cut her off. "But – hypothetically – say you'd been around the person you care about a while. You've been around them long enough to form a strong attachment," he stopped her from interrupting again, by quickly answering her unasked question, "romantically, platonically, whatever. Doesn't matter. It's all hypothetical, anyway. Now, even though you're exceedingly fond of this person – maybe you love him, I don't know – you meet someone you've never met before. And this person is totally new. New is exciting. New can be very exciting indeed. All that newness – things to explore, things to learn. Newness can capture a person's fancy very quickly, Rose. It doesn't even have to be a particularly spectacular newness – though it's helpful if it is, I suppose. It's almost in the newness in itself, though, isn't it? The interest?"

He seemed to realize he was rambling slightly. Rose didn't necessarily mind the rambling, but she was well aware of the direction this conversation was headed. Maybe she shouldn't have answered him when he sat down next to her. His voice got quieter, "The new thing, the new person – just has to be a little different, just a little out of the ordinary to start a tiny spark in your mind. But if it is spectacular – well, all bets are off, aren't they?" He sighed again.

When had he taken to sighing so much? What'd they teach him at those foppy French parties, anyway? It just wasn't like him. Rambling, that was like him. But sighing? Rose essentially found herself at a loss for words.

"So here's this new person," he continued, "and this new person needs you - you think this new person might just be lost without you, as you're quite handy. And there's so much this person is supposed to accomplish, and you're certain – absolutely certain – that without you, for whatever reason, those things just won't get accomplished. Nothing will happen. And for your sake, there's so much newness this person can show you. Even just for a little while, experiencing it might make you more than you otherwise would have been."

And now the conversation had become far more convoluted than the standard '_Rose is pissed, the Doctor attempts to explain why she shouldn't be_' variety that she'd been prepared for. She hadn't even been properly prepared for that type of conversation, truly. But this, this was heavy. She had pretty much lost the high ground (if she'd ever had it) and now found herself on even footing with him. And he knew it. And she wasn't even properly dressed. How was a girl supposed to defend her honor, her actions, if she wasn't properly dressed? They obviously didn't teach him courtly manners at those parties. Just sighing and dancing and drinking. (Well, he'd apparently shown them more of the last than they'd shown him. But same difference.) She tried stalling for time: "So this new person … I think that this new person needs me? Though I don't necessarily know why? I don't even know for certain if? But I think so, right?"

He nodded, "Right. Absolutely needs you – maybe the person'll admit it, maybe not. Maybe he's too tired, too angry, maybe his head's about to get lopped off to replace the main computer of a destroyed spaceship." Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. "Point is, wouldn't you try to help? Wouldn't you know you needed to help?"

"And that's what happened with Madame de Pompadour?"

"That and she threw very nice parties, indeed." And the smirk was back. "Honestly Rose, I wasn't going to leave you forever." Hearing this, she stiffened. Maybe she hadn't lost the high ground after all. She never thought she was leaving Mickey - or her mum - forever. She'd thought it had been twelve hours. But the Doctor – he knew exactly what he was getting into. He'd told her. And bloody hell, it stung. "At the most, I'd have left you for a day or two. The TARDIS would've taken you home..." She nearly corrected him with the teensy fact that neither she nor Mickey knew how to properly pilot the TARDIS, but she let him continue. "…and I'd have been waiting. I'd have been waiting over two hundred and forty years, but I'd have been waiting. It certainly wouldn't have been that long for you. I promise."

Though it pained Rose to sound so much like a petulant child, she still looked at him sideways. "Yeah, well, you still-"

"I still crashed through the blasted time window. I know!" He seemed angry now, "You'd have been without me for a day. At most. You left Mickey and your mum for a year and they forgave you!"

"I didn't know I'd be gone a whole year! If I'd known, I'd-" They were shouting at each other, now, though they still weren't really face-to-face. They were shouting at opposite corners of the room. But the Doctor shouty-angry was far preferable to the Doctor quietly angry. Quietly angry was very scary indeed.

He suddenly went quiet. "You'd what? You wouldn't have come?" Oh dear.

"I'd have said goodbye. That's what I was gonna say. You could've warned me You could've said goodbye or something. Just to let me know you didn't plan to leave us there. There wasn't an emergency protocol or anything. I didn't know what to do."

"Oh." He relaxed slightly and slumped his lanky frame against the edge of the chair back.

"Yeah."

"Oh," he repeated, "Then – sorry."

They sat silently for a few minutes. Tilted away from one another, each aware of the other's breathing. But while Rose was enjoying simply the nearness of him, enjoying having him within an easy – not hostile and not depressed – distance, she still had an unanswered question. "How come you knew she couldn't do all that stuff without you? She was so smart, so clever. Everything I read about her – she was so powerful all on her own. What was it about you?"

"Are you saying I'm not that impressive?" She was glad to hear the anger was totally gone. She was also extremely relieved that he had not availed himself of the opportunity to crow over her that she'd been reading up on Madame. It also didn't hurt that he reached for her hand across the space of the chair's seat.

"Oh no," she laughed, "you're extremely impressive. It's just – she was so..."

"I know she was." Though her back was still turned to his, she could hear the smile in his voice as he remembered the other woman. It didn't hurt as badly now, not while he was holding her hand, which he squeezed.

"So, why you? Aside from your fantastic impressiveness." Rose felt the corners of her own mouth turn up. Smirking was contagious, it turned out.

"I think…" he was honestly thoughtful for a moment, searching for the words."I think it's because I chased the monsters away. I chased the monsters away and I helped her to feel unafraid. That can form a powerful attachment for a person. I wasn't supposed to be there, so it shouldn't have mattered. She should have been brave, anyway. But the clockwork robots weren't supposed to be there either. So, I guess it evened out and she wound up being who she was supposed to be. But if I hadn't been there, and they had, she'd have been a very different woman. All in all, good job me."

"And how do you know all of this? Are you assuming, or did your new person confide in you?" Had Rose truly missed that much while she was off exploring the ship, horrifying Mickey?

"I looked inside her mind." He said it so simply. Oh, he looked inside her mind. Of course he did. He was a Time Lord. He had two hearts. He could look goggly-eyed and smirk and not have it look insanely ridiculous. He could grow a whole new body out of fire. Of course he could look inside the minds of 18th Century French Courtesans.

Bollocks. "Er – how do you…?" Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks.

"I don't make a habit of if, and I always ask politely first." He was smirking again.

"Ah. Right."

"I really wouldn't have left you behind, Rose. I wouldn't have left you stranded. I should have said goodbye. I should have explained. I should have left an emergency protocol for you, and I'm sorry. I'm not sorry I saved her, though. I'm not sorry for that at all."

She turned her torso to face his back as he spoke and saw that hi head was bowed to his chest. "I wouldn't expect you to be." He hadn't let go of her hand. "She was an amazing lady."

"I was her hero, Rose. She only had to know me for a minute."

"Sometimes Doctor, 'specially with you, a minute is all it takes." Rose grinned at his back.

"She called me her angel."

"I know." And so she did.

He twisted to face her. "But I wouldn't have left you forever."

Although she believed him, an image of Sarah-Jane's face came unbidden into her mind. "Why not?"

He grinned, "Because you've chased away monsters, too."

All things considered, she thought that might be enough. (But she still wasn't about to change out of her jim-jams.)


End file.
